


Calamitous Adoration

by porcelainepeony



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, hints of porn... again, sort of a sequel?, well more like a companion fic lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 04:22:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4249131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/porcelainepeony/pseuds/porcelainepeony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mayuzumi’s lips were refreshing, like the first rain shower of spring, gentle and misty and renewing. No matter how many times Akashi kissed Mayuzumi, Akashi’s mind always made the comparison, as if Mayuzumi and water were inseparable entities. It was probably because, with every kiss, Akashi felt himself sinking deeper into the mystery that was Mayuzumi. Yet, Akashi didn’t care about drowning. He enjoyed playing with the storm that was Mayuzumi’s temper, liked being tossed in the hurricane of his angry glares and sharp words. But to save his life, Akashi didn’t understand <i>why</i> it had to be Mayuzumi who washed away all other thoughts, why his dreams always led back to his ill-tempered senpai, why he awoke every night searching for uncaring hands and indifferent lips.</p><p>Perhaps the reason was, simply, that no one else could look so desperately endearing on his knees, and, thus, Akashi wanted no one else to swallow him whole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calamitous Adoration

Notes: Someone asked if I had ever considered writing from Akashi’s POV (thanks for suggesting this idea, though I probably butchered it! XD) I took the same concept from my _Grievous Infatuation_ story and twisted it. So here is Akashi suffering in five stages (to some extent) because he, too, has a crush. I love these idiots a lot if you can’t tell. ToT

Also, sorry for any mistakes. I am moving and didn’t get a chance to edit it as much as I would have liked.

xxx

Denial

Mayuzumi’s lips were refreshing, like the first rain shower of spring, gentle and misty and renewing. No matter how many times Akashi kissed Mayuzumi, Akashi’s mind always made the comparison, as if Mayuzumi and water were inseparable entities. It was probably because, with every kiss, Akashi felt himself sinking deeper into the mystery that was Mayuzumi. Yet, Akashi didn’t care about drowning. He enjoyed playing with the storm that was Mayuzumi’s temper, liked being tossed in the hurricane of his angry glares and sharp words. But to save his life, Akashi didn’t understand _why_ it had to be Mayuzumi who washed away all other thoughts, why his dreams always led back to his ill-tempered senpai, why he awoke every night searching for uncaring hands and indifferent lips.

Perhaps the reason was, simply, that no one else could look so desperately endearing on his knees, and, thus, Akashi wanted no one else to swallow him whole.

Akashi’s legs trembled. Mayuzumi’s arms were supporting Akashi, a pillar stubbornly holding up its crumbling roof. Akashi hated to think of himself as so weak, but Mayuzumi was eager in his ministrations, and Akashi was—as much as people denied it—only human. Pale fingers wove into soft gray strands and pulled, ordering— _begging_ —Mayuzumi to continue. Without meaning to, a moan tumbled past Akashi’s lips, a hushed “Chihiro” following, and he felt himself release into Mayuzumi’s mouth, body rippling with satisfaction and another feeling Akashi was not ready to acknowledge because--

 _Chihiro_.

\--because Akashi disliked Mayuzumi. He disliked that someone could defy him, could look at him and scoff and ignore any threat of consequences, could brush him off without so much as a second glance. He disliked that, despite being fiery in temperament, Mayuzumi was cool, a rush of water that threatened to put out Akashi’s raging flames. He disliked that, no matter how hard he tried, Mayuzumi was an impenetrable ice wall, thick and unbending and cold. Every day, whether at practice or under the covers, Akashi would remind himself that he disliked the older boy, with those vacant—endless—eyes and that uncaring—harmonious—voice. Every night, as Mayuzumi tenderly pressed kisses along Akashi’s hips and thighs, fingertips and neck; as Akashi ran burning hands down Mayuzumi’s sides; as Mayuzumi bit back a moan and murmured a curse; as Akashi kneeled in front of Mayuzumi, meeting him, and only him, on a level playing field—Akashi reminded himself that he disliked Mayuzumi. That was the end of the story. There was nothing else to tell, nothing else to contemplate or argue.

And yet, when Mayuzumi pushed into Akashi, flooded Akashi’s senses, drowned out the denial and hate and disdain, Akashi faltered. He tripped and sank and ended up lost in a sea of calamitous waves and catastrophic currents that pitilessly thrust him against harsh, ragged boulders and threatened his core to crack.

"Chihiro," Akashi murmured, hopelessly lost beneath Mayuzumi’s weight, a comfortable weight that did nothing but lull Akashi into a state of security he hadn’t known since he was a child.

Mayuzumi was a dangerous storm, but Akashi refused to sink. Instead, Akashi would become Poseidon. He would learn to control Mayuzumi, to govern his uncontrollable waves and furious currents.

However, Akashi was not blind to the truth, for he had known he would get lost at sea the second Mayuzumi’s gaze first caught his own.

xxx

Anger

For the most part, people knew not to anger Akashi. That well-known fact, however, didn't seem all too important to the ever-proud Mayuzumi Chihiro. Had it been anyone else, Akashi would have put that person in his or her place. But Mayuzumi was _special_ , so Akashi decided to approach him from another angle.

That was not to say Akashi wasn't furious with Mayuzumi's recent deportment, but Akashi would, for the time being, bottle his anger and let it simmer on low heat.

Mayuzumi didn’t even look at Akashi when he asked, "What are you doing here?"

Akashi caught the malice in Mayuzumi's voice, his own irritation oozing. Who was Mayuzumi to talk to _him_ , Akashi Seijuurou, like that?

It was a hot day. The sun floated overhead, and all but Mayuzumi bathed in its radiance. Akashi mentally laughed from the blatant paradox of the heavens’ sense of humor. Mayuzumi wasn't meant for the sun. He was darkness and coolness and absolutely _stunning_ in all his disobedience and resentment. Frankly, he was _more_ than a shadow and did not need the sun—did not need _Akashi_ —to thrive.

"I thought we could eat lunch together," Akashi blurted. He hadn't meant to speak, had wanted, instead, to remind the older boy to whom he was talking, but Mayuzumi always washed away Akashi’s reason.

"I'm not eating lunch."

A pause.

Akashi felt his frustrations expand until they threatened to burst.

"I'm not in the mood today,” Mayuzumi added, gaze glued to the pages of his light novel.

"You've been distant," was all that came out of Akashi's lips. But a voice inside of Akashi screamed./ _Why_ have you been distant, Chihiro? Tell me, _why_?/ Akashi forcibly silenced his thoughts and sat down beside Mayuzumi, ignoring the way his blood curdled. The boy beside him remained silent, but Akashi needed—needed oh so desperately—to hear the cold words that always shot from Mayuzumi’s lips and struck holes in Akashi’s flesh. "Is something wrong, Chihiro?"

"I want to read."

"Ah" was the only reply Akashi could offer before he settled on letting Mayuzumi do just that.

Whatever the reason for Mayuzumi's anger, Akashi knew that Mayuzumi was blind to everything but himself. He failed to see how Akashi's hands trembled in fury—or was his fury only fear? He failed to see the worry—no, Akashi wasn't worried—etched in the wrinkles of Akashi's frown. He failed to notice the way Akashi’s red and amber gaze flickered back and forth between the ground and the side of Mayuzumi's face, as if silently pleading for Mayuzumi to quench his thirst and flood his thoughts until nothing but Mayuzumi remained.

Akashi's anger turned on itself, and at that moment, he knew he was the only one to blame for the distance that had firmly bridged its place between them.

xxx

Bargaining

Water was unyielding. It was a power even Akashi didn't quite comprehend. Though crystalline and cool, water was strong enough to put out fires and erode mountains. Human life depended on water. All life did. When oceans and rivers ran dry, populations disappeared. Water was healing. It renewed. It cleansed. And no matter how much a person fought against its current, the victor would always be water. Even Akashi understood that he could not defeat something so ethereal and beautiful, so pure and unyielding. But he could let it flow over him. He could let the waves carry him to the shoreline, could let the rain kiss his skin, could let the rivers embrace him.

Akashi needed water to survive. He finally understood that he wasn't strong enough alone, but that, with Mayuzumi, he could at last learn to swim.

"What are you reading, Mayuzumi-senpai?"

Akashi pressed his cheek closer to Mayuzumi's skin, subconsciously aching to hear the smooth beating of Mayuzumi's heart. Fingers meticulously danced along Mayuzumi's collarbones, and, suddenly, Akashi found himself memorizing the planes and dips and contours his fingertips traced. How funny, Akashi mused, to fit so perfectly against Mayuzumi, to feel so completely and utterly lost and at home all at once.

"It's the final installment of ‘A Clockwork Apple and Honey and Little Sister’," Mayuzumi finally answered.

As of late, Akashi was finding it difficult not to read whatever Mayuzumi was reading. It was as if he wanted to dive into Mayuzumi's head and know all of his thoughts. All of his dreams and likes, his fears and hates. All of his secrets and yearnings.

"May I read it when you're finished?"

Their gazes met, and Akashi noticed the slight confusion in the older boy's stare.

"It'll cost you."

Whether Mayuzumi’s statement was an invitation or not, Akashi took his chance. He pressed a kiss to Mayuzumi's chest and sat up, reaching for the book as he made himself comfortable on Mayuzumi's stomach. Then, he dropped the book beside them, leaned forward as Mayuzumi opened his mouth to speak, and silenced him with a kiss. A moan fluttered between them, but it was lost to them both, for nothing but their lips and tongues, their skin and flesh mattered. At once, Akashi pressed his growing erection against Mayuzumi's and rubbed slowly. The heat that swirled between them made Akashi's cheeks rival the color of his hair. And gently, almost as if afraid he would char a delicate antique, Akashi cupped Mayuzumi’s cheeks and met a deep gaze.

"How much?"

/Because I'll give you my heart./

Mayuzumi's chuckle made Akashi's insides burst, and when Mayuzumi pressed a faint kiss against his palm, Akashi felt himself beginning to float into oblivion.

But it was the most delicious of oblivions, cool and sweet and liberating.

xxx

Depression

Mayuzumi was not answering Akashi’s calls or text messages. He hadn’t been for a few weeks. And those facts alone were enough to make Akashi disgracefully stumble over his own two feet.

Ever since Mayuzumi graduated, Akashi had felt that something was missing. Not just a number on the team, but within Akashi’s actual being. Akashi had shrugged it off as a simple case of nostalgia, a yearning for the days when Mayuzumi would stay with him after practice and roll his eyes at him in disdain when he would make Mayuzumi fetch the ball after it had rolled too far away. Or perhaps he longed for the days when Mayuzumi would corner him in the locker room and steal a few kisses before grumpily heading to the showers. But Akashi knew the truth. He was well aware that his heartache wasn’t only because of Mayuzumi’s graduating.

Akashi missed Mayuzumi. Missed the way Mayuzumi would look away and ignore his commands. Missed Mayuzumi’s nonchalant attitude about everything from grades to the clothes he wore to the books he read. Missed finding Mayuzumi reading on the rooftop or hiding behind the bleachers to finish a chapter of his light novel. Missed Mayuzumi’s gaze and the way their eyes would meet halfway across the court. Missed the way their hands would brush as they walked to practice together.

Friends with benefits, Akashi remembered saying. Mayuzumi’s startled look had fueled Akashi, urged him to invade, to press their lips together, to steal Mayuzumi’s breath and suffocate the boy before Mayuzumi had a chance to retaliate. However, Mayuzumi hadn’t retaliated. He hadn’t even flinched. Instead, he had moaned into Akashi’s mouth and pulled him closer, had beckoned Akashi’s hands to slip beneath his shirt, had invited Akashi to bruise unmarred skin and mark pale flesh.

But oh, how Akashi had wanted Mayuzumi to fight. How he had wanted Mayuzumi to push him away and defy him like always. Akashi had been playing a new game, one that promised a whirlwind of frenzied kisses and hurried escapades in the locker room. One that promised nights spent huddled under a blanket, legs and arms intertwined, lazy murmurs fluttering against flushed skin. One that promised to end with nothing but frustrated hearts and unshed tears. And though he had been curious—curious about the gaze Mayuzumi would make when he finally gave in to Akashi’s demands, curious about the sounds Mayuzumi would release as Akashi buried himself inside, curious about the curses Mayuzumi would scream and how desperately he would cling to Akashi’s shoulders—Akashi had not intended to fall for someone who didn’t care about him. In fact, he had not intended to fall for anyone. But once Akashi acknowledged he had a crush—and a crush was all it was, right?—on Mayuzumi, he realized Mayuzumi probably did not entertain the same feelings. How could he? Mayuzumi hated him, and Akashi knew it.

Akashi sighed, swallowed the lump that had gathered in his throat. Red eyes glared—hopelessly—at the phone beside him on the bed. It was Sunday. Still early in the afternoon. The sun was shining with warmth. But Akashi was indoors, shivering and missing something he hadn’t even known was gone.

xxx

Acceptance

Besides basketball, the thing Akashi loved the most in the world was teasing Mayuzumi. After so many nights of mindless lovemaking and stolen breaths, Akashi had learned how to make Mayuzumi sing. If he kissed just below Mayuzumi’s ear or along his jawline, or nipped at the skin of his tender neck, Mayuzumi would tremble, his breath would hitch, and he would murmur _Seijuurou_ softly, almost as if he were divulging the most precious of secrets. And just hearing the way his name rolled off Mayuzumi’s tongue was enough to make Akashi’s heart float happily. So, taking advantage of his position in Mayuzumi’s lap, Akashi teased Mayuzumi relentlessly, leaving little red marks on pale skin, a warning to anyone who saw them that Mayuzumi belonged to _him_. 

A melody of sighs and gasps echoed throughout the room, melding with the tune of Akashi’s own moans. Strong hands kept Akashi balanced perfectly on Mayuzumi’s lap, a quiet reminder to Akashi that he _needed_ Mayuzumi, that Mayuzumi, somehow, supported him and kept him grounded. Akashi momentarily wondered why it was Mayuzumi who completed him in ways no one else ever had, why someone who appeared not to care at all had to be the one who leaked inside of Akashi’s heart and ruptured it. But his wonder ceased, for he knew with certainty that it was because no one else had dared to look at him with such icy passion. Mayuzumi had devastated every one of Akashi’s perfectly constructed walls and had emerged from the wreckage with Akashi’s heart. It had taken Akashi months to accept that he couldn’t win at everything, but the loss of his heart loss wasn’t as terrible as he had once believed it to be.

With a small smile on his face, Akashi ran his hands up Mayuzumi’s chest and draped them over his shoulders. Akashi’s legs were strong, and though his muscles quivered, he easily lifted himself off Mayuzumi’s lap, and then pressed back down, all the while pale fingers playfully brushed against sweaty strands of hair on the back of Mayuzumi’s neck. Mayuzumi shivered at the touch, a blush caressing his cheeks, and Akashi had to hold back a laugh at the frustration painted on Mayuzumi’s face. Mayuzumi was beautiful, and Akashi would have to be a fool to ever let Mayuzumi escape, for they fit. With all their cracks and bruises and jagged edges, they fit perfectly.

Fingers pressed into Akashi’s hips, urging the redhead to move quicker. Akashi caved, complied almost too easily, and dug his nails into Mayuzumi’s shoulders as more of Mayuzumi filled him. Their gazes met. Mayuzumi smiled at Akashi, and Akashi hated his cheeks for betraying his composure. But he had no time to hide the blush. Mayuzumi quickly moved forward and pressed small kisses along Akashi’s jawline in retaliation against Akashi’s earlier teasing. With every kiss, Akashi felt himself drowning, and when their lips finally met, he let out a soft moan and instantly cupped Mayuzumi’s cheeks, beckoning him closer. Mayuzumi’s tender behavior was intriguing, though confusing, but before Akashi could bring himself to question the older boy’s sudden outburst of endearing attention, Mayuzumi murmured “beautiful” against his lips. Akashi’s heart fluttered and danced as his mind repeated the word, and if Mayuzumi didn’t stop looking at him with such adoration, he would lose himself entirely in the pools of Mayuzumi’s eyes.

Before any other thoughts crossed his mind, Akashi’s vision blurred. Colors faded and swirled and reemerged, painting the world anew. In that moment, as both he and Mayuzumi attempted to recapture their breaths, Akashi knew that his old world had been deliciously severed.

In reality, it had been severed long ago.

“I love you, Mayuzumi-san.”

Akashi was usually in better control of his actions and words, but feelings were beyond his understanding. Still, he had said the words with the intention of finally—after so many months of wanting nothing more than to control Mayuzumi, after so many weeks of trying to make _something_ of their relationship, after so many days of regretting his stubborn silence—being honest not only to himself but also to Mayuzumi.

Yet Mayuzumi only blinked at him, and Akashi felt water fill his lungs. “Mayuzumi-san, don’t ignore me.” Maybe it was too late. Maybe, to Mayuzumi, Akashi was still nothing more than flesh and heat, albeit beautiful flesh and heat.

“I was lost in thought.”

Maybe Akashi had burned away all of Mayuzumi’s ability to love until nothing but hate remained. “You heard me.” Though Akashi kept his words as distant as possible, they were laced with sadness.

“So?”

Mayuzumi’s simple answer did more to Akashi than Mayuzumi realized. In that minute, Akashi’s fingers trembled. His mouth opened, but no words emerged. Red eyes flickered regret and pain and despair, and he hated himself for falling for someone so beautifully cruel. Yet he had been the cruel one first. He had approached Mayuzumi with nothing in mind but to use him, so the reverberations of his insides shattering were his own damn fault.

A sigh finally escaped Akashi’s lips. Unable to get his thoughts to calm, he stood and pushed himself away from Mayuzumi. He needed to breathe. He didn’t want to lose Mayuzumi, but he needed to stop himself from drowning in his own pent up misery before he dragged Mayuzumi with him.

Mayuzumi was quick. Before Akashi knew it, he was pulled flush against a warm chest and his lips were pressed against Mayuzumi’s. Though it was a simple kiss, Akashi felt warm. It was almost as if the kiss were meant as an apology, and, slowly, Akashi’s fears were soothed. When the kiss ended, Mayuzumi frowned at Akashi. “Where do you think you’re going?”

"Home," Akashi murmured, though he really wanted to admit that nowhere but in Mayuzumi’s arms did home exist. Before he could speak again, however, Mayuzumi’s arms secured their hold on him. Akashi could not help but smile and wrap his own arms around Mayuzumi, holding him in place. Mayuzumi belonged there, in Akashi’s arms, and he wouldn’t let go so long as Mayuzumi held on.

"I love you, too," came Mayuzumi’s hushed confession.

"I know," Akashi said, placing a chaste kiss against Mayuzumi’s shoulder. There were so many words Akashi wanted to add, but none would ever mean enough; none could ever mean what Akashi felt for Mayuzumi. But the silence was comforting. For the first time in a long time, Akashi knew he wouldn’t drown, for being by Mayuzumi’s side meant living.


End file.
